HIS WINTER GARMENTS HUNG—WHERE, NO ONE KNOWS!
OW blithely through the smiling throng he goes, His Winter garments hung— where, no one knows! A Symphony in radiant scarfs and hose, Wrought t'inspire a maiden's "Ah's!" and "Oh's!" |
NTO a new Flirtation, why not knowing, Nor whence, his heart with madness overflowing; Then out of it—and thence, without a pause, Into another, willy-nilly blowing. |
HAT if the conscience feel, perchance, a sting? No danger waits him—save the Wedding Ring. A Kiss is not the sin that yesterday It was—for that was Lent, and this is Spring! |
OME simple ones may sigh for wealth or fame, And some, for the sweet Domestic Life, and tame; But ah! give me a supper, a cigar, A charming Woman—and the old Love-Game! |